


and if you ask

by jan



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2056194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jan/pseuds/jan





	and if you ask

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skylark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark/gifts).



I.

It could be any afternoon. The sky is a featureless grey, the dead leaves crunch underfoot, and Natsume's walking home with Tanuma beside him.

It's an ordinary, everyday thing. It's something Natsume still hasn't grown used to. Not that he's grown used to Nishimura and Kitamoto's company, either, but there's something else when it comes to Tanuma, a kind of security. He can be startled by a passing youkai without having to blame it on a sudden breeze. He can scan the treeline without having to explain. There's someone, finally, to whom he doesn't have to lie.

He glances over. Tanuma's staring back at him.

"Are you okay, Natsume? You looked kind of..."

But there's still a difference between not having to lie, and being able to tell someone everything. Tanuma doesn't need to hear Natsume's silly, childish worries, anyway. Not now.

Natsume offers an embarrassed smile, instead. "It's nothing."

Tanuma smiles back, clearly unconvinced. And then he looks back towards the road, keeps walking, is kind enough to fill the silence with inconsequential small-talk: "Do you think we should get some kuri-youkan for Ponta? It's the season, and he likes that sort of thing, doesn't he...?"

Natsume breathes out, shakily, almost a sigh; watches his breath mist and dissolve into the air. Not now, he thinks. But maybe someday.

 

* * *

II.

Tanuma's never been that good with winter. It's a weakness his body remembers from childhood, perhaps, the north wind still seeming to whisper promises of fever-drowsy afternoons spent indoors. But like so many other weaknesses, it's something Tanuma's trying to overcome. Today -- with school behind them and an empty afternoon ahead -- is another perfectly pleasant winter day.

They're not going anywhere in particular, the four of them, as they walk down the road from school. Maybe they'll end up in a warm cafe, or a music store. A few steps ahead, Nishimura's complaining about cram school, and then about how Kitamoto's rolling his eyes just because he never has problems with academic work and _geez would it kill you to be sympathetic?_ and Tanuma laughs and turns to Natsume and -- finds him staring at the branches of a nearby tree, distracted by something invisible.

It's a familiar sight, especially ever since Tanuma started keeping an eye out for it.

"Natsume?"

Natsume starts, turns round with a hasty smile. "It's nothing."

That's familiar, too. Not that that makes it better.

But then Tanuma's reminded that things can change, that they _are_ changing, because Natsume lowers his gaze -- just for a moment -- and looks up again with an expression that is tentative and a little embarrassed and entirely sincere. "Sorry. It's... it's just a youkai I recognised. I guess you could say that I helped him, once? It's nothing to worry about."

Tanuma's chest aches with an old, ugly insecurity: _Are you just trying to keep me from worrying? What aren't you saying?_ He swallows. "Even if it is -- you can tell me, you know?"

There's that fear again, coiling cold and heavy somewhere under his heart. What if he pushes too hard or doubts too much and Natsume just pulls back and gives him that terrible closed-off smile--

But Natsume nods, holding his gaze. "I know."

And then he smiles, and the winter sky is bright and clear overhead, and Nishimura's laughing from somewhere in front of them, and everything's okay. "Thank you, Tanuma."

 

* * *

III.

He doesn't go over to Tanuma's house that often, but whenever he does, they always end up by the backyard. Natsume's not sure if there's some kind of meaning to it: if Tanuma wants him to admire the pond outside on his behalf, perhaps. Sometimes Natsume just stares at the ceiling instead, watches the ghost-play of light on wood, feels a strange sort of happiness knowing that Tanuma sees the same thing.

But today he's distracted. Not by the pond, though the fish are dancing through the water as always, in brilliant flashes of red. He's paying attention to the grass, instead, watching out for any tell-tale rustle.

"Is it especially beautiful today?" Tanuma asks. "Or..."

The pond is as beautiful as always. (Are those stray cherry blossoms floating on the surface? What must they look like, to someone who can't see the water?) But that's not a real answer, of course.

 _It's nothing important,_ Natsume wants to say. That's actually true, this time. It's a case of a minor youkai, one that Nyanko-sensei's scared off several times already, which would ordinarily have been enough; this one's just a bit more persistent. It's harmless, barely even an inconvenience. There isn't even any reason to think that it's followed Natsume here.

But Tanuma's still looking at him, calm and patient but undeniably waiting, and if this isn't important in the sense that it's a real problem, well. Maybe it's important in another way.

"It's like this," Natsume begins, and tells him.

 

* * *

IV.

The bell rings, finally. Tanuma slumps back into his chair with a sigh. The weather's starting to slip into that shade of just-too-warm, that temperature that makes concentrating in class suddenly difficult. He needs to get a few more lines of notes down, and then get the other set of books out for the next lesson, but they have ten minutes before that and he really can't be bothered yet.

"Tanuma. Are you free after school today?"

He looks up sharply, drowsiness forgotten. Natsume's hovering by his desk with that awkward, slightly troubled look again, the one he has whenever he allows Tanuma to worry about him. It sparks a strange uneasiness in Tanuma, equal parts concern and... and something ridiculous. He shouldn't be _happy_ that Natsume's bringing a problem to him.

"Of course I'm free. Is something wrong?" Tanuma glances through the classroom window, tries to scan the corridor for shadows. "There's some time now, we don't have to wait for after school if it's. You know, a dangerous one. Do we need to talk to Taki?"

Natsume just looks confused. Then something seems to click: Natsume laughs, loud and sudden, and Tanuma starts from his chair in alarm.

"Natsume! What's wrong?"

But Natsume's waving his concern away, and the smile on his face is the brightest that Tanuma's seen in a while. Tanuma settles back, waits nervously for a reply.

"It... it isn't always about that world, you know," Natsume says at last. "I just wanted to ask for a bit of help with our math homework."

Tanuma stares.

And then he laughs, too. "Sure," he says. "Any time."

The words mean more than that, apply more broadly. But he thinks, perhaps, that Natsume already knows.


End file.
